Jump to content

Recommended Posts

  • Support Squad

Varick snorted in his first expression of genuine mirth since arriving after his death.

"I have no chance in the world of besting you after that display and yet you still ask me if I want to play?" He asked with mild dismay and obvious amusement. It was truly surreal how he had played, incomprehensible to Varick. One moment Varick thought Neville was fine and then in a blink the board was in the Crimson Knights control, checkmate.

Then again, what true harm could it do?

"I suppose we can play whilst we wait...Any tips?" Varick asked of Neville, half as a joke and half as a serious request.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

  • Replies 240
  • Created
  • Last Reply

Top Posters In This Topic

The Library of the Waves

Helen found to her surprise, or maybe something else, that she had a new friend all of a sudden. A brilliantly coloured Parrot flew from out of one of the bookshelves and landed on her shoulder. His body was a brilliant blue like that of the ocean and his head was the light blue of sea foam. He was rather large for a parrot, and heavy to match. He was much larger than her head so large in fact that she noticed he was carrying something on his neck. It was a glass bottle filled with some sort of dark liquid. Judging by the smell, it was probably alcohol. It squawked loudly and spoke much like parrots were want to do. "Pretty voice, pretty voice!" He said over and over. As he sat himself on her shoulder. She noticed that while he was doing that, he was also admiring his reflection in the bottle on his neck. He kept craning his neck in weird ways to try and catch a glimpse of himself in the reflection all the while he kept shrilling out his message. He was what one would know as an exotic bird and was definitely rare. Whether or not Helen knew he was a Crystal Sea Parrot was yet to be known. They were a special kind of Parrot found off the coasts of the Crystal Archipelago. They were well known for their intelligence and more importantly, their long flowing tails. He had wrapped his tail around Helen's neck, much like a scarf. It was shown as a sign of friendship and it was commonly done by domesticated Crysties. It showed the bird was comfortable around the one they were sitting with.

"There ye are, ye damned bird." came the salt-crusted voice of Ignacio. For a man he was rather tall and lanky, though it was hard to discern his true shape in the get-up he was wearing. It was a great billowing Overcoat designed for that of a pirate lord. It was draped over top of his form and more specifically his suit of armour. It was light material, stuff used in field plate rather than that in full plate armour. It was clearly made for more maneuverability. One wondered why this was when noticing the large wrought Iron anchor on his back. It seemed... intuitive.

"Oi, Cojiro, leave the lass alone. She won't anything to do with a slimy muckdiver like you." The Headmaster said.

((as a side-note.... Arya would have seen Cojiro fly past. He is big, blue, and hard to miss so she definitely saw him.))

Link to comment
Share on other sites

"Well, I see only one possible solution, then. Overwhelm him with so many attacks that he cannot take the time to adjust to each one." Silef replied to Ress'nok with a tone similar to the one he used. Without waiting for him to respond, she started to walk calmly but purposefully toward Dust, her strides falling with decisiveness. "Enough with fooling about at range." She sheathed her normal blade, and instead seemed to grasp the air for a moment before a sword made of the same light she had just used to strike at Dust with formed in her hand, though this wasn't dazzling to look at. A matching parrying dagger appeared similarly in the opposite hand as she moved toward striking distance.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

"You're a quick thinker I'll give you that. It seems you have bested me, not everyone is quick witted to counter a pressured rush attack, perhaps I should change my playstyle the next time we met. ." Neville ponders and leans back on his chair, still in disbelief that he lost despite he almost clear out the CK's powerful pieces. He deeply looks at the chess broad and notice where he went wrong. He was defenseless, His king was unprotected and cornered while he was too busy engaging an all out attack against his opponent's units. the wizard chuckled softly as he realized his error.

Neville simply stands up and walk towards Varick, giving him a tip as the orc's request. "yeah just one, don't make the same mistake as I did, repetition of an offensive strategy is bound to fail against this guy, this guy probably invented chess for all i know.. he simply has an answer to everything i throw at him." Neville shrugs as distance himself and observes the match.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

  • Support Squad

Varick took the seat, ready to make the first move. "Let's fail spectacularly shall we?"

Varicks strategy was based around trying to control the board as he moved his knight forward. It was difficult most of the time for him to think of all the different places the pieces could be at one time but he managed to maneuver his pieces into positions to defend each other or prevent his opponents pieces from moving into position to take his own. It was a defensive strategy if ever there was one.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

An ascent of fourteen to fifteen feet later, the obsidian raven roosted and preened herself. Ayla had barely placed beak to wing when what looked like a splotch of the ocean flew past below. Now it- a rare bird known as the Crystal Sea Parrot, native to the isles of the same name- rested on Helen's shoulder rather comfortably. Noting that the bird wrapped its lengthy, feathery tail around its perch's neck loosely, Ayla's beady black eyes glimmered with envy. How she wished to have been in Helen's position to take the opportunity to befriend the beautiful critter... but, alas, she hadn't the voice or talent to sing. Or at least if she did, she wasn't aware- it wasn't like the militaristic Drow Elves were fond of singing. Ravens were known for their intellect and many calls and chirps, but not their voices. At the very least, there was Ignacio, now, clad in a luxurious coat fit for a true Pirate Lord, and underneath that layer... armor? And on the captain's back, a large anchor- one of his two famous weapons, the other being a harpoon. It wasn't an outfit Ayla would've come up with, but, then again, she was no fashion-savvy half-Drow. She stayed where she was, having an excellent bird's eye view of the situation; there seemed to be no need to get back down to the ground.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

The Ochre Dreadfort

"Ho? So it's melee you want, eh? Well then I'd be happy to oblige." Dust laughed heartily. This was about to get interesting. Very interesting.

Ress'nok only snorted in reply to Silef. He was much to tried to talk and didn't want to expend the energy. He was going to need it in the coming battle. He looked back at the Archer, Vayne was his name he thought. He wasn't entirely sure but he didn't need to know. One didn't need the name of someone to fight at their side. He picked up his harpoon spinning it ready for battle. He looked it for a second. It'd never let him down. It had once belonged to his father, the village's fisherman. It was a simple weapon, one that was said to not be fit by a warrior. But, Ress'nok didn't care. He was a simple man, why use something that wasn't fitting of a simple man? He wasn't for for fancy swords. He needed something reliable, something he knew he could rely on. This harpoon... that was it. It never failed his father and therefore it would never fail him. It always came through in the most dire of times. Well, other than the last time. He laughed. These thoughts now. It was strange. He never felt hesitation before. He scoffed at that thought. It wasn't fitting of a Knight. They were supposed to fear nothing, be brave and courageous. But... if you weren't afraid, you couldn't be brave. You couldn't be Courageous. He followed up behind Silef. He wasn't going to let her face this battle alone. He spit a bit of blood from his mouth onto the floor. It was decided. He walked forth. He would back her up as he could. He knew she had to have something up her sleeve.

The Crimson Keep

"Hmmm, a more defensive approach. Protection, safety. But even that has it's flaws. Let us see how the pieces fall." Crimson noted as he played. THis Half-Orc, he wasn't dumb even if he though he was. His strategy was pretty advanced actually. It might have been his warrior's instincts. After all, Chess was that of war. It was meant to be somewhat of a simulation of the act. While it definitely wasn't perfect, it definitely had it's parallels. As such, some part of just knowing your way around the battlefield, did help improve your chances. However, this time The Crimson Knight applied an entirely different strategy. To Varick... he seemed to adapt perfectly to the strategy. In fact... any notes of the strategy he employed last game were gone. It was as if he was playing a different opponent then Neville had been. While Varick tried to keep himself covered from all angles, Crimson pushed into places he didn't see. His pieces like wolves ran into holes in his line and snatched out key targets. He played a game of hit and run, Keeping his own key members out of danger until he didn't need them anymore. He then used them to capture his opponent's key figures sacrificing them to their fate. Once cleared of threats, he pressed in for the kill and he easily secured it with his opponents key forces removed. He didn't even destroy that much of the army only taking one of each upper class pieces. The display was sickening good, but it was evident that the Crimson Knight was just much more well-versed. One could say he was nearly 5 moves ahead at any given time. Varick came closer than Neville, but even still feel short. He was clearly a formidable opponent, but even still no match the Crimson Knight.

Crimson folded his hand into his lap as he leaned back in his chair. "Well, that was enlightening. Thank you for the games Gentleman. I have learned quite a lot from the two of you. Mostly about you, I know nearly everything about the game we were playing after all." he said. He was impressed by the two of them. Against an opponent at their level, they might actually do well if not win handily. Not to mention, how interesting to see two different strategies. These two were definitely of the calibre of the Clash.

"Say... where is our third? He should really be here by now no?" it suddenly dawned on him that the third of his team had yet to arrive. He figure that a single game might have tided out the wait... but two? It was slightly concerning, though he was sure that whoever they were was fine. After all, those summoned here weren't exactly pushovers.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

  • Support Squad

Varick sighed and sat back. That chess game was surprisingly quite exhilarating, the surge of surprise and panic when a piece was stolen right from beneath his nose and the moments when he finally managed to steal a key piece of his own were something he could develop a taste for.

Still Varicks mind was brought to the present by the Crimson knights question. "Our third member... I have no clue really. You don't suppose someone decided to take pre-emptive action before the Clash?"

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Silef, upon entering striking range, feinted at Dust's -well, it would have been his head if he were the same size as the average man- and then redirected her strike at his weapon arm, all the while preparing to move her blade out of the path of any attempts to parry or block it. Dust was much faster than he seemed, but his weapon wasn't weightless. As soon as he moved, she hoped she could adjust her strike to cut at him around or underneath the counter.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

The Ochre Dreadfort

Dust wasn't exactly the best at the whole fancy footwork thing, his weapon of choice probably making that obvious. A giant stone maul. It's head was in the shape of a Terranix, a mighty bird of pure earth. He struck went for an over head slam, not aiming for the sword or her parrying dagger. He didn't need to. His weapon was heavy and not easy to block with some dainty blade. He knew this from experience as most blades cracked under the weight if they stood up to it even a little. The Heavy swing moved towards the woman's shoulder threatening to smash it to pieces. His weapon wasn't delicate... it was going to do horrible damage if it hit.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Silef, rather than doing what might seem to be immediately intuitive, dodged almost directly toward the mountain of a man, getting inside the arc of his massive maul. She cursed herself mentally; it should have been obvious he wouldn't go for a parry, simply taking the attack (which simply grazed his armor; the sorceress didn't want to stand in place long enough to deal a true strike) and taking a swing. Immediately after moving, she struck upward with a thrust, aiming at the space between helmet and chestplate. Perhaps his armor's design was an archaic one, and lacked a gorget...

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Something tells me our mentor knows what he is doing when it comes to strategy, even I have a hard time figuring out what to do in a situation like that. Neville's eyes widen as he observes the crimson man work his way around the broad and infiltrates Varick's thick line of defense and somehow got to the orc's king. Neville stands up with the use his staff as soon as the match come to an end and added his opinion to missing member of their group.

"Our third member... I have no clue really. You don't suppose someone decided to take pre-emptive action before the Clash?"

"that.. or perhaps our third member has back out and gladly accept his or her fate as a dead soul..." Neville jokingly added.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

The Ochre Dreadfort

"Shit! She's faster than she looks." Dust thought as Silef dodged under his attack. She now was inside the swing arc of his maul so he couldn't do anything without getting back his reach. As he saw her blade come up at him he instinctively stepped back. It just barely grazed his armour around his neck area but it left a fine line of molten rock in the wake of the strike. Dust felt it, it was super heated to the point it turned molten. However, it wasn't that bad yet. He hoped she didn't notice, so he did nothing to repair the hole. It wasn't bad enough to warrant revealing that yet. He moved back using the earth underneath him to launch himself further away resetting the distance between himself and Silef. He slammed his hammer into the ground sending chucks of rock into the sky. He then took a deep breath. Each piece of stone formed into a small lance as it elongated. They all went flying for the woman.

Ress'nok noted the direction of the attack going to take a different angle. He went from the side hoping to force Dust into making a decision. Stave off Silef of stave off Ress'nok's pursuit.

The Crimson Keep

As soon as Neville remarked that, the three instantly heard the very recognizable racket of Victonari they had met before. The loud trumpeting... it was definitely him. Though it quickly stopped as another voice was heard. It was clearly one of the servants from before yelling in a loud and somewhat... angry tone.

"AND WILL YOU STOP PLAYING THAT INFERNAL CONTRAPTION FOR ONE SECOND!!!" they yelled.

"Fine, fine. It's just not your taste in music I get it." Gradun said, clearly not realizing the servant wasn't all that happy with him.

"It's nobodies taste in music Lord Gradun... anyway that's besides the point. We have a schedule to keep and you're to supposed to have gone through with The Convergence already. You can't keep bothering the Orchestra that their half notes aren't half enough, or that they don't put enough soul in their music, or that their instruments aren't cleaned properly... or that you think you could conduct it better." this went on for little while longer with the servant listing off a long list of offenses from Gradun. It was quite the lengthy list. And he apparently did the entirety of it within the span of time ti took to play two games of chess. It was hard to know if one should be impressed or not. After all... it had to be some sort of skill to thoroughly annoy the hell out of people this much in this short a span of time. The worst part being he had no idea he was doing it. He perceived it that he hadn't done anything bad.

Now the sound of a stringed instrument started to come from the hall.

A loud sound of frustration came from the servant.

"What? You only said to stop playing my trumpet." Gradun replied. "Anyway, I'll be on my way. Your orchestra keeps playing pieces I don't know at all. Also... they play boring non-soulful music."

"You didn't even know the songs, yet you were criticizing how they were playing them?" came the exasperated voice of the servant... clearly dumbfounded by the revelation.

"You don't need to know the song to know it needs a little spice of life. Man... you don't understand music at all do you?" Gradun remarked as he kept playing his lute. "Anyways, I'm blowing this Popsicle stand... Find somewhere they like my music. Perhaps those folks that got picked with me will! They must have been put with me for their great appreciation skills."

"You keep telling yourself that..." said the servant as he took his expedient leave.

**********

The trio could now hear the Victonari singing as he played his lute. He came down the hall singing loudly and carefree, not seeming to care if any body heard him. His singing voice was actually... really good. It came as a bit of a surprise as his Trumpet palying was completely horrible. His lute was quite a bit better to boot.

"Every thought is a dream, rushing by in a stream,
Bringing life to our kingdom of doing

Take a ride in the sky, on our ship fantasii
All your dreams will come true, miles away

Our voices will ring together until the twelfth of never,
We all, will live forever, as one

Come to see!, vic-to-ry!,

in the land called fantasy!

Loving life, a new decree,
Bring your mind to everlasting liberty!"

Link to comment
Share on other sites

  • Support Squad

Varick clapped mutely, daring not to say anything that would provoke more music. Assuming this was a combative Clash, Varick truly hoped Gradun got worse. Then perhaps they may deafen their opponents.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Silef ducked down and threw up an arm in a warding gesture, causing a barrier of protective light to form in front of her. She still felt the impact of the barrage in the form of the strain it put on her to maintain the barrier, which dropped as soon as she was sure the last strike fell. The glow about her faded as her eyes returned to their normal green color. She remained in her crouched posture for a moment, regaining her breath, before standing and drawing her more mundane blade.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Neville scratch his head and was baffled as soon as the wizard saw their last member makes its way inside the crimson keep. To his surprise, it was that unique trumpet playing lizard-man. Neville's thoughts about Gradun's music was pretty neutral actually, It wasn't that bad to say the least. his singing voice balance out his instrument playing skills. It was somewhere between chaotic and pleasant to the caster's ears.

"You there, guy playing the lute" Neville called out as he tries get the Victornari's attention. "I appreciate the entertainment and all, but you seem to be lost, who are you and what are you doing here, musician?" the wizard asked just to make sure that this singing victornari didn't find this place by accident.

Edited by Ragnar
Link to comment
Share on other sites

So much for that, the silver-haired elf thought. There was a plegmatic, admittedly rather surrendering look in his eyes as he glanced backward at Matthew. Perhaps Debronee would've responded faster? It likely would've have made a difference.

He then turned to the two newcomers of the feud, misty figures......from the afterlife, summoned by the suit of armor. It was an easy and accurate presumption that the two pillars of wind had responded under the call of Snow's horn. They didn't need more opponents -- not now -- but perhaps Snow was now bored with playing, and decided to toy them like lambs to the slaughter before she decided to do whatever she would do that her power would allow her? He examined her tone as she conversed with the two others fade into slight equanimity and relaxation, as if she were appeased by the arrival of the two warriors. Opponents the three could defeat or not, Debronee knew that Snow wanted the enjoy the ensuing battle.

Debronee's eyes stared back at Matthew. The purple spheres seemed to attempt to carve the words into the pirate's mind: "What now, genius?"

Maybe it's time I did things my way, if this fails, and if we even manage to stand once we figure the other two out.

Edited by YagamiNoir4896
Link to comment
Share on other sites

Helen tilted her head in curiosity as the large, colorful bird perched on her shoulder.

"Well, you're a cute little one, aren't you?"

The bird extended its tail around Helen's neck, prompting Helen to stroke it gently. She almost moaned in satisfaction at the tactile impression of the bird's soft feathers against her fingers.

As a large, intimidating figure stepped out in front of them, Helen's first thought was: "Oh wow. More armor."

Her second was "An overcoat over a suit of armor. Not to say anything of the redundancy of the coat, but wouldn't it get just, really hot in there?"

Ah well. Strange fashion was still fashion, and the man's unusual getup at least fulfilled the function of drawing the room's attention to him, which was - ultimately - the basis for fashion. Nor was it as aesthetically assaulting as what the previous armored person wore, so Helen decided that she did not quite hate this particular dressing style.

As the man told the bird - Cojiro, it seems - to "leave the lass alone", the lass in question smiled and replied, "It's fine, isn't it? He's pretty. And cute. And I consider myself an ally of all things pretty and cute."

"In any case, I presume you're Ignacio? A pleasure to make your acquaintance. I would curtsey in greeting, but then I'd run the risk of accidentally throwing Cojiro here off my shoulder, and I'd rather not affront such a beautiful avian."

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Wind elementals. Or spirits. It didn't matter. That made things many times harder.

Matthew knew what he had to do first, though. They shared her battle experience, but did they share her mental fortitude?

"I thought you said you wanted to make things even," Matthew started, giving the woman the biggest shit-eating grin he could. "Instead it seems you've just given us an advantage. What could two stiff winds ever do to us? Blow my hair or rustle my clothing?" He gave a hearty laughter at that thought, slowly drawing his sword. "Why, in fact, I'm almost offended. These two can match up to us?"

Matthew shrugged. "I guess so. How about this, then; I'll fight you myself, Ashford." Matthew stared the woman down, his expression growing fierce "And each of my companions will take down your little puppets. If you can get me to admit defeat before Zagi and Debronee defeat your phantoms, you win. If you can't, we do."

This was a risky move, bordering on idiocy. He knew he couldn't match the woman, but his expertise was staying alive, and one thing he knew for a fact from this fight so far is that in terms of reflexes not even the paladin matched him; All he had to do was dodge. Attacking wouldn't matter, and just waste energy. If he could stall until the phantoms were defeated, he could win.

How they'd go about defeating them, however, is a different matter entirely.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

'So she summoned some friends from the afterlife, as if things weren't hectic enough.' Zagi thought to himself. 'They seem to know each other well, probably from when they were alive.' The situation wasn't good, if they could barely handle Snow's attacks then how were they supposed to deal with three of them. Maybe as summoned spirits their power would've been lower a bit, or if he was lucky they could be a bit rusty since they were in the spirit world for an amount of time. Though he can't lower his guard and assumptions. Until he has clashed swords with one of them he could not be certain.

After hearing what Matthew had offered Zagi wanted to object to it, but he didn't have a better plan. Plus, this way Matthew could keep Snow distracted while he and Debronee could focus on their respective opponent. Though Matthew's injury could pose a problem since it was only tended to just a moment ago. The man knew what he was getting himself into, Zagi would just have to have faith that Matthew could buy them enough time to do what he plans, assuming Snow agrees with the offer.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

The Ivory Tower.

"You shouldn't have done that Corwil." Snow laughed loudly. The man had no idea the bad move he made. This wasn't any warrior spirit he had just insulted. It was that of Adalbern, The Bear's Pride. The grizzly man was well known for his warrior's pride and it was clear that such an affront to his character wasn't gong to be accepted. The Mistake had been made. Both Spirits started to solidify their bodies becoming real, more importantly the arms they held did as well. In Adalbern's hand a broad axe started to form from the mist as well as a great heater shield. Not your traditional sword and board... Broad and Board.

The man loosed a primal growl of anger. "If you going to take the piss... I might as well take your idiot 'ead from your shoulders." he spouting affixing a stare right at Matthew. He didn't wait much longer either, he leapt right to action. His big body moving much like his namesake of a bear. While he wasn't overly graceful, he was still charging and gaining ground quick. He leveled his axe right at Matthew's shoulder hoping to chop off the Blackguard's shitspewin' gobb.

"As you see... I can't take you up on that offer. Sorry..." Snow said, her voice the cold sting of a winter's breeze.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Matthew's smile changed, and the man closed his eyes. He was now smiling sincerely in the direction of the man charging towards him. When his eyes opened again, the piercing-blue eyes almost shined with an eerie light ((One with the sea -> ON))

An angry man would make mistakes. It didn't matter even if he yielded fury itself as a weapon; Anger makes the mind one-tracked. It makes you focused, but too focused. Too focused on the wrong thing.

And that was something he would use.

(( Explanation: Up to this point in battle, Matthew wasn't making a point to use his passive - Footwork ))

The pirate shuffled with precision and grace he hadn't shown up to this point, moving his body back just enough so that the axe would swing with enough of a gap to avoid him being hit by any surprises. Matthew's feet were firmly planted on the floor once he finished his movement, making sure that he wasn't going to be blown away by a surprise gust of wind.

He angled his rapier slightly, with the intention of it only scraping by the man's arm. It would create such a small scratch that if it connected, his enemy likely wouldn't even feel it; While tempted to pull the trigger and release the poison within the viper's kiss, Matthew didn't. His objective with this was to simply test two things:

1 -> Is the man material, or not? Can he be wounded?

2 -> Assuming he's material and can shift between material and not at will, can he do so unconsciously?

Regardless, should the chance arise - like if the man kept moving to try and shoulder-bump into Matthew, his sword would be pointed towards his arm, and would certainly penetrate it if it was at all possible.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

The Ochre Dreadfort

"Silef, you're no ordinary Sorcerer. Blades... are they your strength? Or is the Light it? What is your specialty? Or is that yours? That you have none? I'd find that greatly surprising... and interesting. You magic is very versatile, just like that of Stone. The Earth might not be as flashy or quite as fancy... but we can do a lot. My mind and body are one. They ponder together to reach enlightenment. But, yours are disharmonious. Your body... your baser desires, your impatience doesn't let that happen. You risk life and limb without thinking because your form isn't important to you. Am I correct? Does your very body act without thinking? Because my body is my mind. Acting for me... is thinking. And while my mind and body ponder, they ponder with the world. I am one with it." Dust mused at the woman. he was impressed by how fast she was, how dedicated, and how bold she was. It reminded him of times long past. "Why are you fighting? Is there a reason... or does it just feel right? All I know is that your body... it's built for this. You move too fast, too quickly to not have trained it most of your life. You wanted this. There must have been a reason."

*twang* the sound of a harpoon hitting a solid object. The hit so hard that the harpoon itself vibrated with the impact.

Ress'nok quickly struck taking his opportunity while Dust was talking to Silef. He leapt forwards striking just under Dust's cuirass, making an attempt to stab at soothing fleshy. However only the Divine Knight's namesake fell out instead. No trickle of crimson followed, just a cloud of light sienna dust. "Nice hit, Ress'nok." Dust said looking at the Red Victonari. "It's your last I'm afraid... now I know just how thick my armour needs to be to prevent your harpoon from piercing even the connections. And I'll still be able to move as well. What a joyous occasion." he said leveling a fist at the not so traditional knight. Ress'nok pulled back, barely managing to avoid the rocky fist, in fact... flakes from the punch hit him. He felt small patches of sharp pain all over his neck and chin realizing that the dust that flew off Dust's fists actually bored ever so slightly into his skin. It was a barely more than a superficial wound, but it was something that definitely was painful. Ress'nok only thought one thing... Hopefully that was enough to leave an opening for the others to take advantage of.

The Crimson Keep

Gradun stared directly at Neville for a uncomfortably long amount of time before responding. He apparently couldn't believe something he had just heard. He began to speak a few times, but shook his head while mumbling before he finally spoke to the wizard. "Are you daft? I was sitting next to you during that whoooooole rigmarole of ceremony where they played hoooooooooooooorrible soulless music. Bah, a travesty I say! Where were we? Oh, yes! Are you daft? I was sitting next to you that whoooooooooooole rigmarole of a ceremony that had Hooooorrid music." he repeated himself having forgotten waht he had said... this Gradun... didn't seem the most together individuals at times. Gradun of course had no idea that he had just done that. In his mind he said it once. He was nearly oblivious to what was going on except for the fact that a man didn't realize how awesome it was that he sat next to him, and then not only that DARED to forget how awesome it was. People were so uncivilized at times. "How could you forget my Amaaaaaaaaaaaaaazing trumpet skills? How could you forget my stuuuuuunnning complexion and flawless smile?" he said smiling widely. He did have stunningly white teeth, he wasn't just tootin' his own horn. He laughed loudly. "I KNOW!!! You'll remember if I play my trumpet!"

He quickly put his lute on his back and started to reach for the horn on his side. The Crimson Knight just watched and didn't say anything. He'd let Gradun's team deal with the eccentric man for now.

The Library of the Waves

"Rawrrrrrrrrrk!!! Stupid Ignacio, Stupid Ignacio, Rawrrrrrrrrrrrrrrk!!!" Cojiro squawked loudly as if to answer Helen's question.

Ignacio somehow still gave off a sense of distaste in the bird and anger even when all that could be seen was the front of his helmet. The somewhat disgusted sigh of frustration afterwards only made it sink in ever the more.

"Aye, Lassie, that is me..." he shot another spitful glance the way of Cojiro after saying that. "And yer dealin' wit something much more than just a cute and purrty bird there. I should feed that Bilge-guzzler to the fishes already... damned feather-brain. Ya should leave these decent folk alone. Me little friend here is a right pain in the arse... and he knows it. Now shut that yap of yers, Cojiro..."

"Aye aye Cap'n, Raaaaaaaaaaaaawk!!!" The bird squawked at him mockingly. It even saluted with it's wing to add insult to injury. At this point Ignacio reached for the bottle hanging around it's neck. However noticing this the bird leapt out the the way not removing it's tail from around Helen's neck, and jumping onto her head. Cojiro was careful to not dig his claws into her scalp. After all Cojiro didn't want to hurt the pretty lady. However... he also didn't want to give the cpatain back his rum. Cojior way too often enjoyed stealing the Headmaster's supply right from under his nose and flying off with it. Of course... Ignacio wasn't too fond of this. "Arrr, give it 'ere you scurvy dog!!!" Ignacio shouted at the bird.

Cojiro seemed to laugh before squawking "Rum's gone, Rum's gone! Raaaaaaaawk!" over and over to taunt the captain.

It was about this time Nadia had arrived. The dark woman walking into the crazed scene of a man trying take back a bottle from the neck of a small blue parrot sitting on a woman's head and moving between it and her shoulders in effort to avoid the man. She wasn't expecting to see this when she was told they'd have an instructor in the Clash. She wasn't sure how to react either. Should she be furious... laugh... cry? She didn't really know what to do. She just looked at Helen from behind the Captain who was fighting with his bird.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Helen was simultaneously amused yet discomfited by the larger armored man clamoring around her shoulders to get at the rum bottle in Cojiro's grasp. After silently observing for several moments, she reached up and stroked the tail of the bird gently, whispering in a soft, coaxing voice:

"Come on now Cojiro. Give the good man his rum back. A sailor without alocohol is like a ball gown without a corset: saggy and boring. Come on now."

((Is this the bit where I roll a d20 to do a charisma check))

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Neville briefly turns his attention towards his Crimson mentor with a dumfounded look on his face as the victornari reach for his instrument once more. Not again. the wizard thought to himself. Neville remembers quite well how Gradun's trumpeting skills goes back at the hall and listening to it again is not what he had in mind. Neville's tolerance can only take so much.

"I remember you now, but I think I have enough of your entertainment for one day.." Neville said to Gradun and mumbles an incantation.

"gnimrasid gninhtgil" The wizard's finger crackles with static electricity as he aims and quickly shoots directly towards the trumpet, "ZZZZZSSTT!" Neville always shoots first. A weak lightning bolt flew across the room as it tries to disarm Gradun's trumpet before he could reach and play his unique god given sound.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Guest
This topic is now closed to further replies.
  • Recently Browsing   0 members

    • No registered users viewing this page.

×
×
  • Create New...